Project Barbie

2

Emma was known in New York for being the daughter of the magnificent Victoria Bianchi, one of the best lawyers in Manhattan and Brooklyn. She always got you out of a tight spot if you needed it, and the NYPD began to fear her every time they saw her stand in court. 

Her latest trial was defending the Chester family, a wealthy family based in New York with roots in France. Apparently, Ruben - the youngest son of Jeffree Chester - hired a nanny to take care of his children at their residence in Brooklyn. She was found dead a few months after accepting the position, and although all the evidence pointed to suicide, they decided to investigate it as a possible homicide due to inconclusive evidence.

As always, Victoria won the case, and Ruben Chester escaped a very serious charge. As a thank you, the Chesters planned a highly extravagant party for Victoria. Of course, Emma was one of the invited guests. And guests could bring a companion, so Emma decided to bring me along.

The party that was thrown was in honor of Emma's mother, as she had saved them from the biggest charge they could possibly face: involuntary manslaughter. 

"Oh, wow... I feel rich," I muttered.

I was standing in front of the mirror, my blond hair braided. My collarbone was visible, as my silky golden dress only covered my arms and chest. It was quite tight, making it hard to breathe, and Emma made it worse by tying a bow around my waist.

I let out a groan.

"Ouch! It's too tight," I complained.

Emma gave me a quick look to apologise.

"I'm sorry, but the dress code is very strict, and I can't take any chances. You need to look like one of them," she reminded me.

I rolled my eyes until I felt another tug.

One of them... It was another way of saying upper class, a class that spent their days throwing away money, enjoying their luxurious life, and looking down on those who weren't fortunate enough to be as wealthy as them.

"Yeah. Sorry, I'm not as rich as the others," I said ironically. "Why don't you invite John? He's your boyfriend and he'll know how to behave."

Emma ignored that comment and slowly got up, wiping her hands on a napkin. The dark-haired girl examined me, looking for any small imperfections to correct before the taxi came to pick us up. She placed a hand on my shoulder when she realized I looked perfect.

"Perfect! You look like royalty. Another one of my amazing works of art," she bragged.

I grabbed the flounce of my dress, turning to look at how it flowed elegantly. I could hardly recognize the girl looking back at me in the mirror; she was so different that I felt certain discomfort.

"You know that I'm not in the mood to go out." I muttered, hugging myself to try and remain calm.

"I want you to meet more people and make more... connections. There will be a lot of people, especially young attractive men eager to meet a beautiful girl like you," my best friend reminded me, saying that last part with a playful voice.

I knew deep down that Emma was doing this to help me, but I didn't want to admit it. I felt unable to move on; Michael was still on my mind every hour. Every time I did something fun, every time I smiled, all I could think about was what it would be like to be by his side. And suddenly, I would remember his betrayal, and I felt like sinking again.